


Rivers and Roads

by Gaffsie



Series: Turning Tides [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Begging, Boarding School, Bondage, Condoms, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Light Bondage, M/M, Past Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaffsie/pseuds/Gaffsie
Summary: Sweet Pea does a favour for FP Jones, but he might have a bit of a hidden agenda.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Sweet Pea
Series: Turning Tides [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606687
Comments: 11
Kudos: 151





	Rivers and Roads

Sweet Pea is helping FP Jones trying to wrangle the Riverdale Sheriff department's filing system into some semblance of order when FP's phone buzzes in his pocket.

“Shit,” FP grumbles, and pulls it out, pushing his reading glasses down on his nose so he can read the message notification.

The simple action of putting on his glasses always makes him look more like a legitimate member of society, and less like a former gang member who only became sheriff because he had dirt on the mayor.

It makes Sweet Pea reach for his own throat, thoughtfully dragging a hand over his Serpent tattoo.

In hindsight, maybe getting his gang tattoo on his neck wasn't the brightest idea, but when he was 15 years old and pissed off at the whole world the idea that he one day would get his GED and start an internship at the Sheriff's office would have seemed like something out of a Jingle-Jangle trip.

At least the Serpents as a group are legitimate now, and their former misdeeds overshadowed by the crimes of the Ghoulies, the Gargoyles and whatever bullshit Dodger's gang is up to, so his tattoo only carries with it the unfortunate associations that all neck tattoos share.

And considering that FP is the one who gave it to him, making him down several shots of Jim Beam beforehand to help with the pain, he's the last employer in the world that would hold it against him.

“Fuck,” FP swears, and Sweet Pea raises his eyebrows in question. He can tell by the exasperated tone of his voice that it's Jughead-related.

FP gives Sweet Pea a look over his glasses, smiling in that charming way that means he wants a favour.

“It seems the boy forgot his annotated collection of Walt Whitman poems at home this weekend,” FP explains. He scratches his head.

“You don't think you could-”

Sweet Pea doesn't need to be psychic to know where this is going.

“This counts as overtime. And you're paying for gas,” he says, and FP nods in obvious relief, already digging through his jacket pockets for his house key.

~*~

It's not so bad driving down to Stonewall Prep.

It's a fairly mild autumn day and once he crosses Sweetwater River, the road is practically deserted. It's been too long since Sweet Pea took his bike out for a long country drive. It almost seems unfair that he's getting paid for the privilege.

It's not so bad seeing Jughead again either, he admits to himself. He's not quite sure what they are to each other; friends, certainly, even friends with benefits, but maybe more than that too.

He's never been to Jughead's school before, but it's not hard to find.

Stonewall is like something out of those boring British movies Fangs liked to watch before he went crazy and let some dude steal his kidney, all imposing stone and manicured lawns. Sweet Pea could swear he even sees a tree trimmed into the shape of a fucking bird when he drives up the lane.

There's a small visitor parking lot where he leaves his bike, and then he strides down the cobble-stone walking path to the school.

He has to ring a bell to even get inside, and he growls out, “here to see Jughead Jones,” in bad grace.

The middle-aged dude who opens the door for Sweet Pea curls his lip at the sight of him, eyes raking over his slicked back hair, tattoo, and leather jacket in half disgust, half fear.

When Sweet Pea takes a step closer, looming over him, the disgust is replaced by weariness.

“Mr. Jones is in his geography seminar right now,” he says, “but you can wait for him in his room.”

A douchey looking blonde kid in a blazer is walking down the hall, and, catching sight of Sweet Pea, he does a double-take before he makes a bee-line for them.

“Mr. Harrods!” the blonde exclaims, and the Harrods guy smiles.

“Mr. Weston-Wallis,” he says, practically beaming at him. “Just the man I wanted to see,” and Sweet Pea wonders where these rich dicks learn to talk like that.

He gestures to Sweet Pea. “Mr.-”

He gives Sweet Pea a questioning look, and Sweet Pea takes a great deal of pleasure in saying, “Sweet Pea,” watching the way Harrods looks like Sweet Pea's name has personally offended him.

“Mr. … Sweet Pea is here to visit Jughead Jones,” he says to the blonde. “Could you show him to your room?”

The blonde grins at him like Christmas has come early, and Sweet Pea hates his guts already.

“Certainly,” he says, sounding as smarmy as is humanly possible.

He gives Sweet Pea his hand. “Bret Weston-Wallis, at your service,” he says.

“Sweet Pea,” Sweet Pea says, shaking his hand.

Harrods makes his escape, leaving Sweet Pea with the guy who looks like the bully in every 80s movie ever made.

“How thrilling to meet one of Forsythe's little gang buddies,” Bret says, his smile very wide and very fake.

He pivots on his feet and starts walking in the direction he came from, Sweet Pea hot on his heels.

“Forsythe is in class right now,” Bret says, shooting him another fake smile over his shoulder. “It's an elective, but with _his_ background, he can't very well miss any chance to catch up.”

He shakes his head, mock-sorrowful, and Sweet Pea kind of wants to punch him in his dumb over-sized face.

Bret sighs, bringing up a hand to his chest. “I'm so glad his old friends support his attempt to rise above his up-bringing. I'm sure it's very helpful.”

“Wow, you're an asshole,” Sweet Pea observes, and Brett looks momentarily startled before the shark-like smile returns to his face.

“I'm also Forsythe's roommate and peer mentor,” Bret says, and Sweet Pea realizes it's a _threat_.

“He's working _so_ hard to leave his violent past behind him,” Bret says, as he takes a turn down yet another hallway, “but I'm afraid the faculty doesn't quite trust his commitment to this institution.”

“He's lucky you're in his corner,” Sweet Pea scoffs, and Bret gives him yet another shark grin.

“Exactly,” he says.

Eventually they end up in front of a wooden door similar to all the other wooden doors they've passed.

“Here we are,” Bret says.

He unlocks the door and ushers Sweet Pea inside.

“You can wait for him here. I'm sure I can trust you not to steal anything.”

With one last smarmy smile, he leaves.

“Thanks a lot, asshole,” Sweet Pea mutters.

He looks around the room, and takes a seat by the desk. He realizes he could just leave the stupid book here and be on his merry way before it gets dark, but it's been a while since he saw Jughead, and he does miss him.

He only has to wait for 20 minutes before the door is thrown open, Jughead entering on a curse.

“Fuck Donna,” he mutters, slamming the door shut behind him.

He dumps his books on the bed closest to the door, and when he lifts his head he does a classic double-take at the sight of Sweet Pea sitting at his desk.

Sweet Pea holds up the Whitman book in greeting, smiling a little at how rattled Jughead seems by his presence here.

He gives Jughead a once-over, eyes raking over every detail of his appearance.

Sweet Pea doesn't bother hiding his smirk when takes in the sight of Jughead in his fancy new prep school uniform.

“You look adorable, Jones,” he says, making Jughead scowl at him.

Jughead does look adorable, and he must know it too, because Sweet Pea can detect an angry flush working its way up from under the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“Shut up,” he mutters, tugging at his red tie in a vain effort to look less like an extra in a Harry Potter movie.

Sweet Pea gets up from his seat and prowls closer to him, enjoying how embarrassed Jughead seems to be by being seen like this.

He reaches out and touches the emblem on his black blazer.

“Maybe you could put a serpent sticker here,” he teases him, “to show your gang affiliation.”

“Fuck off,” Jughead huffs, but there's a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Jughead sighs and reaches up, pulling his ever-present beanie off his head and tucking it into his pocket. He wearily rakes a hand through his hair, somehow counteracting the effects of wearing a hat for a whole day with that simple movement.

“Thanks for bringing the book,” he says. “You really saved my ass with that.”

“No big deal,” Sweet Pea says, shrugging his shoulders a little.

“For what it's worth,” Jughead says, “I'm glad you're here. This place is a fucking nightmare.”

He sighs, and then he shrugs off his blazer, sloppily draping it over the back of a chair.

Sweet Pea snorts. “Yeah,” he says, “I met your roommate.”

“Bret, the American Psycho reject?” he asks, and Sweet Pea nods.

Jughead shudders, hugging himself.

“I swear, that guy makes me miss Kurtz. At least he was reliable in his insanity.”

“Wish I could stay longer,” Sweet Pea says, making Jughead give him a grateful little smile.

“I'll be fine,” Jughead says, “but it's nice spending time with someone who isn't trying to stab me in the back for a change.”

Some devil inside Sweet Pea makes him reach out and grab Jughead's tie, pulling a little at it. Jughead gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“I can think of something else I'd rather do,” he says, smirking at the look of surprise on Jughead's face.

“That was terrible,” Jughead says, voice flat, but there's a look in his eyes that suggests he wouldn't mind that kind of activity either.

Sweet Pea gives the tie another tug, making Jughead stumble into him, their chests touching. He has to tilt his head up to meet Sweet Pea's eyes like this, and Sweet Pea likes that.

“You like it,” he says, even as he's leaning down to capture Jughead's lips in a kiss.

He can feel Jughead smile against his lips before he opens his mouth and brushes his tongue against his.

Jughead's hands go to Sweet Pea's waist, thumbs rubbing restlessly over his hip bones. He's a very confident kisser, and Sweet Pea would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

He takes a step back towards the bunk-bed, pulling Jughead along by his tie, and he follows easily, nipping a little distractedly at Sweet Pea's lip as he goes.

“Which one is yours?” Sweet Pea mumbles against his lips.

“Top bunk,” Jughead says, huffing out a laugh when Sweet Pea growls.

“Fuck that,” Sweet Pea decides, and drags him down on the bottom one instead, pushing and pulling until he's got Jughead placed to his satisfaction.

Jughead looks up at him, sprawled out on the bed, his tie a wrinkled mess and his eyes bright with amusement. His smile is so wide it looks like it hurts.

“Pretty sure this is against the room-mate code of honor,” he says.

He laughs when Sweet Pea swoops down and kisses him, but he's soon moaning instead, his restless hands sweeping over the broad span of Sweet Pea's back, as Sweet Pea fucks his tongue into his mouth, holding him in place by his tie.

It gives him ideas, that tie, and he breaks the kiss so he can concentrate on getting the damn thing _off_ instead.

Sweet Pea's not very used to ties to begin with, and he's pulled so much at this particular one that it actually takes some work to get the knot untangled.

“You can tell me to stop,” he mumbles, but Jughead just looks dumbly at him, kiss-swollen mouth half-open in question and eyes hazy with lust, as Sweet Pea takes his left wrist and wraps the tie around it.

Jughead allows Sweet Pea to push his wrist against the headboard and finagling the tie around one of the wooden slats, swallowing wetly in anticipation when he finally figures out what Sweet Pea is doing.

He gives him his right wrist without prompting, watching Sweet Pea tying the last knot with wide eyes.

Jughead pulls at his bindings, testing the give and finding very little, and the look he gives Sweet Pea is hard to describe. A little scared maybe, but mostly eager. His hair is falling into his eyes, and when Sweet Pea reaches out to push it back, he can't help but linger, giving the soft locks a gentle caress.

“Probably should have let me undress first,” Jughead says, a little shakily.

Sweet Pea smirks at him. “I know what I'm doing,” he says.

“Tied a lot of guys up lately?” Jughead asks. He probably thinks he's coming off as airy and unaffected, but Sweet Pea can hear the jealousy in his voice, see the way his face is going carefully blank.

“Just you,” he says, with a shrug. As fun as Jughead can be when he's jealous, he's in a vulnerable position right now, and Sweet Pea doesn't want to break the mood.

He flicks his nose with his finger just to make him scowl up at him in mock-outrage, and then he reaches down and gets to work on his shirt buttons instead.

It's a bit like unwrapping a present, he decides, baring Jughead's smooth chest to him in increments. He can't take the shirt off completely, but it doesn't matter. It's almost better like this, something obscene about the way Jughead looks, his shirt-tails hanging open, his red school tie wrapped tightly around his slim wrists.

His chest is heaving, and Sweet Pea can tell that he's already hard, his erection messing up the lines of his slim-cut grey khakis.

“Pretty sure I've watched porn like this,” he says, and Jughead chuckles, jealousy forgotten.

“Didn't think you'd go in for debauched school boys,” Jughead says.

Sweet Pea tweaks his nipple for that, enjoying the gasp it produces.

“I like you, don't I?” he says, kissing Jughead's cheek and his chin, before trailing down to his neck, nipping a little at the pale skin there.

He's struck by the urge to mark him up a little, so he does, sucking hickeys at the base of his neck and half-hoping they will be visible over the collar of his shirt later.

“Sweets,” Jughead warns him, but he's arching up, pushing his neck against Sweet Pea's mouth, so Sweet Pea doesn't think he really minds.

Sweet Pea leans back, admiring his handiwork. There's a purple mark, blotchy and wet with saliva on Jughead's neck. He blows on it, making Jughead shiver.

“That better not show,” Jughead demands, that generous mouth down-turned in a petulant little pout, and even though Sweet Pea hasn't actually ever watched any boarding school themed porn, he's gaining an appreciation for the genre now.

“Afraid Bret will get jealous?” He asks, laughing when Jughead bares his teeth in a growl.

“Not funny,” he says. He tugs at his binds, and shoots Sweet Pea a baleful glance.

“If I wasn't tied up, I'd beat you to death,” he says.

“Sure,” Sweet Pea agrees, and gets to work on opening Jughead's belt.

“You'd be in real danger,” Jughead says, a little breathlessly.

“Absolutely,” Sweet Pea agrees. He thumbs open Jughead's pants button, giving his dick a friendly squeeze through the fabric while he's at it.

Jughead moans, head falling back on the pillow.

“Not fair,” he complains.

Sweet Pea hums pleasantly and pulls down Jughead's zipper. He also pulls down Jughead's pants while he's at it, Jughead gamely lifting his hips from the bed to help.

He has to take a moment to wrestle Jughead's shoes off, his socks, with their cheerful hot-dog print, quickly meeting the same fate, and then he can drag off his pants completely, throwing them across the room in his haste to get them off, leaving Jughead in just a tight pair of black boxer briefs.

Sweet Pea raises an eyebrow at the sight, mouth curling up in a smirk.

“You've been holding out on me, Jones,” he says, teasing him just for the way it makes Jughead avert his eyes, embarrassed by the scrutiny.

“My boxers were too baggy for the pants, “ he defends himself, pulling a little restlessly at his bindings as he watches Sweet Pea toying with the elastic.

It's probably true, is the thing. Doesn't mean Sweet Pea doesn't enjoy the end result though.

“Looks good,” he says.

“Bet I'd look even better without them,” Jughead shoots back, confidence restored, and Sweet Pea huffs out a laugh even as he pulls the underwear off, Jughead's hard dick springing up against his stomach the second it's no longer contained by the cotton.

“Wow,” Sweet Pea says, smiling widely, “you were right.”

He takes a moment to just drink in the sight of Jughead like this, naked and turned on, and his for the taking.

Jughead shifts a little uncomfortably under his regard. “You're a bit overdressed, don't you think?”

“Maybe,” Sweet Pea says, “but what are you going to do about it?”

The look of outrage on Jughead's face is priceless, but Sweet Pea isn't cruel, so he gets up from the bed, removing his clothes and enjoying the way Jughead has craned his head to watch him, eagerly tracking the way he's shredding his layers.

Sweet Pea wonders if he's even aware that he's absently chewing on his lower lip, as his wide eyes practically devour him.

Jughead's appreciation for his body is an ego-trip Sweet Pea doesn't think he'll ever get tired of, and he finds himself showing off a little, stretching a little extra when he pulls off his t-shirt with one hand, flexing his biceps to show off his arms.

He even makes a show out of pulling off his belt, before he kicks of his shoes and pulls his jeans down.

“Moose used to keep condoms and lube in the desk drawer before he left” Jughead says, sounding a little breathless, and Sweet Pea smirks at how eager he sounds.

“He's smarter than I thought,” he says, and walks over to the desk. The first drawer just contains assorted crap; a scuffed baseball, some tape, and a half-empty package of AAA batteries, but the contents of the second drawer proves to be more useful. There's a, frankly optimistic sized, box of condoms, and even a small bottle of lube, as well as some fuzzy novelty handcuffs.

Sweet Pea ignores the cuffs, but he grabs a condom and the lube and brings his loot back to the bed, Jughead scrambling to pull his legs back and make room for him.

His dick is only at half mast now, so Sweet Pea kisses him sweetly before drifting downwards, sucking marks on his slim chest that matches the ones on his neck while his hand works Jughead back to full hardness again.

“C'mon, Sweet Pea,” Jughead whines, tossing his head restlessly on the pillow as pulls on his bindings. “I'm not made of glass.”

He's not. He's a being of flesh and blood, and human urges, just like Sweet Pea, and it makes him smile, hearing him so close to begging. It's turning into one of his favourite past-times, reducing Jughead to a begging mess.

He hums agreeably, and goes back to sucking on a perky brown nipple.

Jughead's dick is so hard; precome starting to well up at the tip, and Jughead moans softly at every pass of Sweet Pea's palm.

He fumbles blindly with his free hand for the lube, and, finding it, he lifts his head from Jughead's chest and presses a wet kiss to his chin as he struggles, one-handed, with the cap.

“Put your legs on my shoulders,” he instructs, and Jughead hurries to obey him, lifting his long legs and draping them over Sweet Pea's shoulders, baring himself completely to him. His face is flushed, but he doesn't shy away from Sweet Pea's gaze the way he did in the beginning; _can't_ , not tied up the way he is.

“Jesus Christ, Jones,” Sweet Pea mutters, a little awe-struck. He squeezes out some lube on his fingers and rubs them together to warm it up, and then he brings his hand to Jughead's ass, rubbing carefully around the tightly furled rim until Jughead draws a shaky breath and relaxes into his touch and he can finally push a finger into that tight and grasping heat.

Jughead lets out a shaky moan once Sweet Pea is inside him, clenching sweetly around Sweet Pea's finger, his own hands curled into helpless and frustrated fists against the headboard. Sweet Pea still wants to hear him beg, so he bends down and sucks Jughead's dick into his mouth, teasing the gland with his tongue as he fucks him loose enough for a second finger.

The large room echoes with the sound of squelching lube and Jughead's small moans and half-choked demands.

He lets Jughead's dick slip out of his mouth, and mumbles, “you know what I want to hear,” before nipping at the sensitive skin at the inside of his thigh in warning.

“Please,” Jughead finally whimpers, looking at him with desperate sea-green eyes from under lowered lashes, those plump pink lips finally forming the words Sweet Pea has been waiting for.

“Please fuck me already, Sweet Pea.”

It's such a sweet surrender, and it makes Sweet Pea feel hot all over, having him break like that.

He fumbles, a little desperate himself now, for the condom. He pulls out his fingers from Jughead's ass, making him hiss at the loss, and with hands practically shaking with arousal, he manages to tear the stupid little foil packaging open and work the condom – pink, and smelling faintly of artificial cherry – over his dick.

He doesn't waste any time fucking into him for real, grabbing Jughead's skinny hips in a bruising grip and pushing inside of him with one delicious glide, both of them groaning at the sensation.

They've only done this a couple of times, but it's always so fucking good, Jughead so fucking hot and tight that it's a struggle not to come too soon; and the _noises_ he keeps making, helpless little moans and gasps that goes straight to Sweet Pea's dick.

The other times they've done this, Jughead was beating himself off, but he can't now, his hands tied, and it adds a frisson of excitement, knowing that he'll get to decide when, and how, he comes instead.

He sets a demanding rhythm, not wanting to deny either one of them this, letting Jughead's moans and whimpers guide his actions. The bed is creaking with their movement, and Sweet Pea hopes the walls really are as sturdy as they look, because otherwise the people in the next room over is getting quite the show right now.

He doesn't quite know what makes him do it, but the devil in him makes him pull out entirely, Jughead helpless to do anything but moan in dismay and kick his feet uselessly against his back in protest.

“No,” Jughead wails, completely shameless now. He tugs at his bindings, and Sweet Pea realizes he's going to have marks there tomorrow, abrasions he'll have to hide under his bracelets and long sleeves.

“Shh.” He hushes him, tracing kisses over his cheek, as Jughead whimpers, needy and desperate and so fucking gorgeous and _his_.

“Please,” he begs, something wild in the way he looks at him, “I need it.”

“Gonna give you everything you need,” Sweet Pea vows, finally pushing into him again, conquering that tight little hole and making Jughead moan with gratitude.

Sweet Pea feels _wild_ , and he fucks Jughead so hard that the headboard starts beating a staccato rhythm against the wall in time with his thrusts.

Jughead's moans are starting to grow ragged, face scrunched up in adorable concentration, and, with a start, Sweet Pea realizes that he's _close_.

“You gonna come for me?” he grits out, kind of obsessed with the idea now. He punctuates his question with a hard thrust, making Jughead moan breathlessly.

“Just a little more,” Jughead breathes out, so Sweet Pea continues to fuck him like that, his thrusts hard and almost punishing in intensity, Jughead's slim legs like a fucking vice around him, caging him in and urging him on.

He leans up and nips at Jughead's neck, worrying at the marks he's already left there, and that's all it takes, Jughead gasping and clenching around his cock, body arching up from the bed as he comes, his cock spurting between their bodies, sticky white smearing between them.

A couple of uncoordinated thrusts more, and Sweet Pea follows, coming with a grateful groan and practically collapsing on top of Jughead.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes; Sweet Pea's pretty sure he saw God there for a while. 

Jughead giggles, a little loopy now.

It's a struggle getting his arms under him again, but even though his mind is agreeably fuzzy with endorphins, he knows it's not safe to keep Jughead tied up for too long.

Thankfully, he manages to get the knots open without too much fuss, and Jughead smiles gratefully at him as he presses a kiss to his sore wrist in apology.

“I'm gonna feel that tomorrow,” Jughead says, smiling a little crookedly at him. He's a well-fucked mess – hair like a bird's nest on his head and stomach smeared with jizz and sweat.

“Still worth it though?” Sweet Pea asks, and Jughead nods, his smile widening a little.

“Definitely,” he says, leaning up for a kiss.

“You could stay the night,” Jughead offers later, a little shyly. “Bret's got some kind of special permission to be gone overnight. He's got an interview with a recruiter from _Oxford_.” He rolls his eyes as he says it, and, having met Bret, Sweet Pea can't say he blames him. The guy's a grade-A over-privileged asshole.

“Can't,” Sweet Pea says, real regret in his voice. He gives Jughead's hair a little tug. “I have to be at work at 5 tomorrow.

“Christ,” Jughead groans, dropping his head down on the pillow. “The law never sleeps, does it?”

“Maybe we could see each other this weekend,” Sweet Pea offers, feeling hopeful. He's got weekends off, since he's just a trainee, and the idea of having Jughead for himself for two whole days holds some serious appeal.

“I could swing that,” Jughead says. My history teacher is an asshole, so I have a test last thing on Friday, but I can take the late train to Riverdale.”

He's clearly working up to something, nervous fingers drawing inscrutable patterns on Sweet Pea's chest.

“I've been avoiding going home on weekends,” he finally confesses, sounding a little guilty. “It's kind of awkward living in the same house as your ex.”

It makes Sweet Pea feel a little guilty too, knowing that he's a big part of why Betty Cooper is now Jughead's ex.

“You can stay with me,” he says. “It's a shit-hole, but you already know that.”

“It's a date,” Jughead says, and Sweet Pea realizes; it kind of is.

**Author's Note:**

> This poor story has been languishing on my hard-drive since November. I'm just happy I finally finished it. /o\ Thanks for the encouragement and good vibes!


End file.
